


Five Goodbyes

by raven_lore



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag: The Return, Gen, M/M, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_lore/pseuds/raven_lore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what the title says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers:** Tag for episode 3x10 The Return, so spoiler for that.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** mostly written when the episode aired, betaed by the lovely _bettina_, without whom I’d be lost. All remaining mistakes are my own fault.

1.

“So, you’ll be staying at the SGC?” The question is deceitfully simple and Radek knows it had to be asked. They don’t have much time left. Still, giving an answer is not as easy as he’d wish it to be.

“No, I’m going back home. I’ve been offered a position at Masaryk” The words roll out his lips smoothly enough. He has already signed the papers, answered the enthusiastic proposal. He’s known where he was going for a couple of days already, so that’s not the hard part. The problem is sharing the news with the man lying on the bed by his side.

“You’ve always wanted that.” Evan’s voice is steady, devoid of any reaction. There’s no joy there, but there’s nothing else either – regret, resentment, melancholy, betrayal – and Radek is grateful for that. He doesn’t think he could have expected more, that he should have.

“Yes,” he confirms. He doesn’t need to add _‘before Atlantis’_ out loud. Lorne knows, they all feel the same.

Radek pushes down the emotions and concentrates on returning the pleasantries. “You?”

Lorne shrugs, his naked shoulder warm where it brushes Radek’s own. They’re both staring at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact, and even this is painful, just looking at the smooth surfaces that make up Atlantis.

“The SGC. Some SG team probably.” The tone is still casual, but not enough that Radek doesn’t feel the disappointment in there and the guilt at that disappointment. He wishes he’d know what to say to make things better. At least some things.

They lay in silence on Lorne’s bed. They’re still together, still side by side, but Lorne’s warmth is already fading now that they’re not touching any longer. They’ve already begun to distance themselves from each other. Radek supposes it’s better this way.

“Unless they need a Marine at Masaryk, that’s it,” Lorne says, and the warmth spikes a little brighter.

“I’m afraid not,” Radek answers and allows the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly in a wry smile.

“Well, damn,” Evan says and it’s as falsely light as he can make it, a lie that doesn’t trick either of them, but they both laugh anyway. It’s foolish, but, as last memories go, it’s a lot better than the alternative and they’re both grateful for it.

 

2.

Elizabeth looks at the bracelet in her hands. It’s beautiful, and old, and the alien gems are exactly the same color of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says once more to Teyla. There’s not much else left to say. As clichéd as it might sound, she’s been left without words.

Teyla steps closer and Elizabeth bows down, lowering her head to meet Teyla’s in the traditional Athosian way. Too soon Elisabeth has to sigh and withdraw. But as she loses the comforting contact of Teyla’s skin, Teyla stops her with a hand on her arm. Then she hugs Elizabeth and, after the initial surprise, Elizabeth hugs her back.

They hold on to each other for a few seconds, before Teyla lets go.

“I’ve learned many things from your people.” Teyla’s voice is solemn.

“As we have from yours,” answers Elizabeth, steeling her voice to match that of her friend. “As I have.”

 

3.

“I’ll miss this,” Rodney says, but as he mumbles it around a mouthful of stew, it comes out more like ‘I mush thee’.

Ronon understands him, though. He understands him perfectly and stops eating. He stares at Rodney silently for a few seconds and then answers, “Yeah, me too.”

Rodney stops eating himself. He presses his lips together and nods once.

Sitting down at their table, Major Lorne takes in their not eating and grimaces, “Please, the stew can’t be that bad.”

Ronon snorts and dips his spoon back into the bowl. “Nah,” he answers, “it’s good.”

Rodney nods once more, his mouth still a thin line, before filling his mouth as well.

 

4.

John is standing on a balcony. It’s not a special balcony. He didn’t have any special reason to choose it. It’s just that this doesn’t feel like something that should be done inside.

Staring at the horizon, he recalls the faces to his mind.

They come, one after the other, each one waiting patiently for his or her turn. It’s not a very long queue, slimmer than the crowd filling his mind whenever he thinks of the dead. Not less painful, though. As the last face comes to the front of the line, he tightens his hold on the railing, his knuckles turning white.

They’re not leaving them, he thinks, trying to convince the projections of his own mind. They’re not giving up on them. The Ancients said they will be allowed back one day.

John doesn’t need to see the incredulity on Ford’s face to know that his own subconscious doesn't believe it. Still, with a shakes of his head, he forces himself to march on.

“This is not goodbye. We’ll get back here. We’ll keep looking for you,” he says between clenched teeth, repeating out loud for Ford what he’s been whispering in his mind to the others MIA.

Ford doesn’t answer, he just looks at him for a moment before turning away and disappearing, leaving John alone to wonder if he’s always been so bad at lying to himself.

 

5.

It’s a hand, sliding slowly on the cool surface of a wall.

It’s a vial of ocean water, hidden amongst other samples, samples that have actual scientific purpose.

It’s the last stock of coffee, the good one, hidden where not even Dr. McKay has thought of looking for it, left there for when they will come back.

It’s a picture taken on one of the balconies: just people smiling, the ocean, the sun bright in the cloudless sky. But the city is there as well, just outside the borders of the picture. One just need to know to look for it.

It’s a hundred and more little ways in which they say goodbye to Atlantis before stepping through the Gate heading back to what used to be home, but doesn’t feel like it any longer.


End file.
